


Pain of Lyrium

by TooBusyHuntingDragons



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Blood Magic, Demonic Possession, Hurt/Comfort, Mages and Templars, Templars (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 17:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12194217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooBusyHuntingDragons/pseuds/TooBusyHuntingDragons
Summary: After the calamity in Kirkwall, Hawke and Anders have been on the run, moving from mage resistance to mage resistance. However, they both know their time and luck in running out and the Templars are never far behind. But little do they know that a new foe awaits them, as well as an old one...Re-posted from Fanfiction.net





	1. Chapter 1: On the Run

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-upload of my first major fic from Fanfiction under the same name. It is based on my male blood mage Hawke, Haemon and my headcanon that Hawke had to get those cool powers from the Destiny trailer from somewhere. I'm posting it here so that more people may get to read it. The story is finished, but I'm now currently working on a prequel, so any general story/writing comments are still appreciated. Without further ado, please enjoy.

Anders didn't even keep track of the date anymore, nor how long they had been on the run. Hawke however knew how many weeks it had been since they left Kirkwall down to the day. That made Anders worry that Hawke didn't want to be here, and that perhaps he would be happier back in Kirkwall. In Kirkwall, Hawke was a hero. Here he was nobody. Anders wasn't even sure where 'here' was. It was hot and it was dry and they were squatting in an old house on the outskirts of some backwater town.

"I like it here," Hawke had said when they arrived, "It's got a real nice…charm to it."

Of course he had been sarcastic, but Anders felt that perhaps he wasn't completely joking. After all, Hawke was from a town quite similar to the one they found themselves in now.

The sun was dipping beneath the horizon when they decided that they would make the abandoned home their own for the night. Anders lit a fire in the hearth that began to drive the loneliness out of the cottage. And as he began to cook some food over the cheery fire, the place started to feel quite cosy. As Anders heated their meagre meal over the fire, he noticed Hawke was sitting on the step outside, looking up at the stars.

"What's wrong, love?" Anders asked as he sat down beside him, knowing something was on the Champion's mind.

"You know, it's been six months since we left Kirkwall today," he said with a sigh, "And one since Arry died."

Arry was Hawke's Mabari who had come with his family all the way from Lothering. Hawke had been distraught when the dog died. Anders didn't know what he would have done if he hadn't been there to comfort him. Arry had been Hawke's last little piece of home, and now that was gone. Anders had to keep a close eye on Hawke afterwards. He was worried that he might turn to blood magic again. Years ago, Hawke had made a deal with a desire demon named Dreamweaver to grant him powers in order to defeat the Arishok. Hawke had managed to kill and hence free himself from the demon with Anders' help after he realised the dangers of blood magic. He had never been the same since, but he always kept his head held high and was ready with a joking comment for everything. But tonight, Hawke seemed depressed and he wasn't even trying to hide it. Anders gazed at Hawke, noticing how his once quick-to-smile face was now lined with stress and age.

"I'm so sorry Hawke. The only reason you're not in Kirkwall is me. I had to leave, and you came with me. If it wasn't for me, you could still be there, with Aveline and Merrill and Varric."

"No, Anders, don't blame yourself. I want to be here with you. Wherever you are is my home now."

Anders grabbed Hawke and kissed him. Hawke responded eagerly.

"I'm glad you're here, Hawke," Anders said afterwards, "I don't know how I would have made it if you weren't."

"We're both pretty broken and it's probably going to take lot to fix us up," Hawke joked with his characteristic smile returning, "But together, we'll get there I'm sure.

Lying next to Hawke in bed that night, Anders continued to think. And despite what Hawke said, he couldn't shake the guilt. Hawke could have had everything. Even when he had made terrible decisions, Hawke stayed by his side. Anders had tried to be there for Hawke as well. Especially when a rather brazen Hawke got injured on the battlefield- which happened more often than Anders would like. But in the end he would always be okay. But now, Anders could never be sure that they were going to be okay. Hawke had no status to hide behind. Nothing could save him now if the Templars came after them. And everyday Anders had to deal with the constant fear that they weren't running fast enough or far enough. Just the thought of it all made him shiver under the sheets.

"Anders, aren't you asleep yet?" Hawke mumbled.

"No. I can't."

Hawke moved closer to Anders and held him in his strong arms.

"I'm not singing a lullaby so this better be enough,"

Anders chuckled. He felt safe next to Hawke. And as he listened to Hawke's steady heartbeat, he drifted off to sleep.

Anders woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the window on to his face. He rolled over to say good morning to Hawke but there was no one beside him. Anders bolted upright and scanned the house for his lover. He relaxed when he saw a note pinned to the door. He got up and read the note

Gone into town to buy some food becausesomeoneforgot to buy some more the other day.

Anders usually liked to accompany Hawke on such trips and felt a little worried that he was there by himself. Anders realised he was always worrying about Hawke, even though he was more than capable of looking after himself. In fact, Anders knew that Hawke was better at looking after himself than he was. The whole disaster with Justice didn't make things easy for him. Anders exhaled deeply. Hawke would be fine, he thought. Nothing had happened in six months, and it certainly wasn't going to happen now.

Hawke strode cheerily into the town, even though it was a fairly desolate place. It reminded him a little of Lothering, and that made him both sad and a little happy. Though unlike Lothering, everyone here seemed stiff lipped and untrusting. He could feel the surveying eyes of the locals as he made his way to the trader. They knew a foreigner when they saw one. Hawke hoped they didn't identify as one particular foreigner- the Champion. Hawke brushed off the possibility. No one in the town would have seen him before, and even if someone had, he looked different to what he had six month ago. His beard, though still the same in size, was a lot rougher and messily cut. His hair, once immaculately cared for, was now mattered with knots and hung at shoulder length, though Hawke had now gotten into the habit of tying it back with a red ribbon. He also guessed he looked a bit scruffier than he did in Kirkwall. Hawke found the town's trader and went inside. A small bell attached to the door chimed at his entrance.

"Morning," Hawke said to the storekeeper with a nod. The storekeeper looked a fair bit friendlier than the people outside.

"Good morning sir," he replied. As Hawke went about choosing food for him and Anders, he noticed the storekeeper watch him keenly, and almost a little suspiciously.

"You're not from around here, aren't you?"

"No," Hawke said politely but firmly, "Just passing through."

"Where you heading?"

Hawke grew annoyed at the shopkeeper's insistent questions.

"I'm visiting family in Orlais," Hawke lied quickly. Hawke regretted his choice. Orlais! Of all places, Orlais!

"Ah," the man said, seemingly satisfied. Hawke's annoyance subsided. Folk from towns such as this were often curious of outsiders. As Hawke went to pay, an idea lit up in the man's eyes.

"If you're visiting family, how about a wonderful handmade gift!"

He gestured to a small rack of carved necklaces and bracelets on the counter. It looked like they were carved from some from some sort of deer or halla horn. Hawke was about to decline when one caught his eye,

"How much for the cat pendant?"

"Fifty silver."

Hawke smiled. Anders loved cats, but was often disheartened at the fact he would probably not own one again, at least for a while. Hawke hoped that the necklace would cheer him up. He handed over the money for the supplies, and an extra fifty for the pendant. It was a beautiful little thing with intricate detail on the face. The shopkeeper thanked Hawke for his purchase as Hawke stepped back outside into the bright morning sun. He blinked at the sudden change of light, but quickly realised something was wrong as his eyes adjusted. The townsfolk that had been going about doing their daily business had all disappeared. The only people left on the street were a group of armed men standing in a semi-circle outside of the store.

Templars.

Hawke thought he might be able to bluff his way out of the situation, though he got ready to grab his hidden staff at any moment.

"What can I do for you Templars?" Hawke said in a cheery voice.

"Don't think you can lie your way out of this one Champion," the leader of the group said, his voice muffled through his helmet.

"Champion? Oh no, you've obviously got me confused with someone else. I'm definitely a lot more attractive than the Champion."

The Templars drew their swords and began advancing slowly on Hawke.

"Ah well. It was worth a try."

Hawke dropped the supplies and pulled the collapsed staff from his belt. A mage had altered his staff before leaving Kirkwall so that the shaft could be collapsed into itself to make for easier concealment. When Hawke pressed a button near the figure at the top, the wooden shaft expanded back to full size. Hawke did so now and slammed the butt of the staff onto the ground in front of him, sending a wave of magic forward that made the Templars stumble backwards. Hawke began his characteristic sequence of spins and flourishes that shot bursts of lightening and flame at the Templars. Hawke's speed caught on off them off guard and his attack sent the Templars flying backward. However, the rest deflected the attacks on magic resistant shields. Hawke felt his hand itch for his blood magic knife, but he had promised Anders that he would give the dangerous practise up. But the Templars were good at lyrium suppression and Hawke could feel his powers waning as they began to take away his power. He knew that he might not have a choice. He grabbed the carved blade from his belt and slashed it across his arm, leaving a thin red line that began to seep warm blood. Hawke felt his supressed blood powers begin to resurface. Of course, without his old bond to the desire demon his blood magic was no where near as powerful as it once had been. His attacks quickly gained strength though it sapped his energy to do so. Hawke heard shuffling behind him but before he could react he felt the butt of a sword slammed into his temple. It didn't knock him out but it made him sag to the ground. The Templar placed his sword on Hawke's neck.

"Don't move, maleficar," he snarled. Hawke began to prepare his blood magic again but before he could the sword was brought down against his head again, and this time rendered him unconscious.

It was mid-afternoon when Anders began to worry. Hawke had been gone half the day and every second that passed grated on Anders' nerves. He had been pacing up and down the little cabin, checking out the window every few seconds hoping to see Hawke's figure striding back. But he had not seen such a figure yet.

"That's it," he said out loud to no one in particular. He grabbed his disguised staff and started heading for the town with a nervous feeling in his stomach.

It didn't take Anders long to find the trader and the signs of a scuffle were obvious. Blood was splattered over the ground and Anders felt sick when he realised it could be Hawke's. He saw a nearby villager surveying the scene as well.

"What happened here?" Anders asked.

"These Templars turned up out of nowhere and ambushed this mage as he came out of the shop. Serves him right too. He was a filthy blood mage."

"Did they kill him?" Anders inquired, trying to stop his voice from breaking.

"No. They threw him in some carriage and headed off south. Probably heading to Fort Dival. There's a big Templar encampment there. Heard that the ones there are particularly brutal. That mage will get what he deserves."

Anders couldn't say anymore. He just nodded and the villager walked off. His hands began shaking as he realised he was alone again. He could feel Justice starting to rise up inside him.

"No…" he said under his breath, "Not here, not now."

Anders knew the townsfolk would show him no mercy if Justice reared his head. He breathed in deeply. Anders noticed the basket that Hawke had discarded at the beginning of the battle. Something sitting on top caught Anders eye. He walked over and picked up the pendant, though now it was stained with blood. Emotions came flooding through as Anders held the little cat pendant in his hands as he realised Hawke had spent the little money he had on a gift for him. Anders closed his fingers over the pendant.

"I'll find you, love. Don't you worry."


	2. Chapter 2: A New Templar Threat

When Hawke awoke, he was on cold hard floor of what looked like a cell. He groggily got to his feet. His head was still pounding from the impact.

"That was unpleasant," he mumbled to himself. He looked around but could barely see anything. Some torches lit up the hall in front of him and confirmed that he was behind bars. Hawke peered up and down the gloomily lit hallway and saw no one.

"Hmm. Templars are lazier than I though."

Hawke stood back and prepared to blast the doors open with magic. But he realised something was wrong. No power was coming to his fingers. And there was no tool to draw blood to use blood magic either. Hawke slumped back against the wall, annoyed. He figured the Templars must have some sort of magic suppression device in place. Hawke immediately began thinking of other ways to escape but hardly a moment later, a Templar guard appeared in front of his cell.

"Up," he said strictly and sternly.

"You know what, I am actually very content here."

"I said up!" the Templar snarled. With that he raised a heavy whip and brought it down on Hawke's face. Hawke recoiled in surprise at the attack. Then he saw the insignia on the man's armour. This was one of the new Templar Order of "Red Templars". They were separate from the Chantry and took mage control into their own hands. They had quickly become infamous for being particularly brutal and some carried whips to control mages.

"Alright, alright, I'm getting up," Hawke said, rising slowly. The sudden appearance of the whip made Hawke worried. It was quickly becoming apparent he was in a rather bad situation. The Templar opened the cell door and motioned for Hawke to follow. Hawke considered trying to overpower him but without magic, it would be a difficult task. So Hawke followed contently behind the Templar, curious as to how the situation would pan out. The Templar took him into the higher levels of wherever he was held captive. Hawke guessed by the design of the place that it was some kind of fortress- one that fallen into disrepair over the years. It wasn't a very inviting place and lacked even the most basic decorations. Hawke followed the Templar into a gloomily lit room where he was promptly forced into a chair and his arms were tired behind him. The Templar quickly left, slamming the door behind him. Despite Hawke's growing worries, he began to hum a tune under his breath as he waited to see what would happen next. Moments later, the door swung open again and in the doorway stood a particularly grim looking female Templar. Her blonde curling locks reminded Hawke of Meredith and he wondered for a moment if they were related. She strode forward with an air of authority and crossed her arms in front of Hawke.

"The formidable Haemon Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall. Hmm, you're not so formidable now, are you?" she said with a smirk.

"Well I try my best," Hawke replied, using an ironic cheery smile. Suddenly, the Templar backhanded Hawke across the face. Hawke was not ready for the attack and it stung, but he made no sign that it did.

"You will not backchat me, mage. I have questions that need answering."

"You won't be getting answers with a swing like that. I've met Chantry mothers who hit better than that."

The remark earned him another blow, but Hawke braced himself for it this time. His wit and sly remarks had gotten him out of many situations before, and Hawke knew he could do it again. The Templar decided it was time to begin asking her questions.

"Our information states that you were in league with the mage terrorist who destroyed the Kirkwall Chantry. To save yourself anymore pain today, it would be wise to reveal who the terrorist is and where they are now."

Hawke's heart clutched as he remembered Anders. Anders would most likely be fretting badly back in the village since he disappeared. He suddenly began to worry about Anders frail mentality, and his tendency to fall into bouts of depression. Hawke looked up at the Templar and hoped his face had not conveyed his worried thoughts,

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The Templar hit him in the side of the face with a gauntleted hand. Hawke couldn't conceal the pain of the blow this time and could feel blood beginning to trickle down his temple.

"Don't lie to me Hawke. I know you were there when the Chantry was destroyed. And I know you knew the man who did it."

"Perhaps I did."

"Where is he?"

"How should I know?"

"Because you worked with him!"

"Hmm, yes, because I keep tabs on every person I've ever met and dealt with."

The Templar hit him again. Hawke's vision began to disorient. The Templar was not holding back.

"You are a stubborn one. My mother was right about you."

"And who was your mother?"

"Knight Commander Meredith," the Templar said in a soft but menacing voice.

"Ah, I see the resemblance. You have her hair and her crazed suspicion and hate of mages. I wonder if you're just as batshit insane as she was too."

Hawke knew the comment would hit hard and that he would be punished for it. But Hawke was testing the water, seeing how far he could push Meredith's daughter before she snapped. The Templar grabbed a fistful of Hawke's hair and threw him onto the ground with surprising strength. Hawke began to wonder if he had found her breaking point already. He felt the Templar's steel boot ram into his side repeatedly.

"Don't you ever say a word against my mother! She was the best Templar in Kirkwall!"

Hawke choked back a laugh. Meredith's daughter began to beat him even harder. She hit with a ferocity Hawke had not expected. He tried to talk again but instead coughed up blood. He realised his plan was going awry. He tried to stand but was forced back down as a baton was swung down against his back. Hawke cried out this time and saw out of the corner of his eye a sly smile on the Templar's face. Was he trying to find her breaking point, or was she trying to find his?

Anders had gotten directions to Fort Dival relatively easily. It was the foreboding, depressing looking fort built into a mountain to the north. The locals said he couldn't miss it. So now Anders was on the warpath to the fortress to free Hawke. In the last two days he hadn't eaten and had only slept for a few sporadic hours. He knew every second he spent wasting time could the last seconds of Hawke's life. Just the thought of losing Hawke made Anders feel physically sick. Hawke was the only person that had ever truly cared about him. Hawke had saved Anders from a downward spiral that had nearly led to suicide. Hawke was the only thing that kept him sane, and Anders began to panic at thought of a life without his comforting presence. His panic spurred him on faster towards the mountain on the horizon. He would free Hawke no matter the cost.

Hawke was thrown back into his cell after the questioning when it became apparent he wasn't going to talk. He did a quick check over his injuries, and while they were numerous, they could be worse. His whole left side felt like it was bruised and his back was equally battered by the Templar's baton. But so far there were no broken bones and no serious internal bleeding. But this made Hawke realise that Meredith's daughter was definitely not done with him. The wrath of the Templar was limitless and for the first time in years, Hawke felt afraid. Truly afraid. Because he knew that they could do so much more.


	3. Chapter 3: The Knight Commander's Daughter

Hawke woke and was unsure whether it was day or night. There were no windows in the dark hallway, making it impossible to tell. He rolled over and groaned in agony as he felt the scars of the beating the day before. Hawke's stomach grumbled as he awoke and he realised that he was incredibly thirsty. But there was no food or water in sight. He tried his magic again but to no avail. Hawke leant back against the wall in defeat. He knew he needed a plan to escape, but he had no idea how. It was then he realised how useless he was without his powers. Without his magic, he couldn't do anything. He leant his head again the wall and closed his eyes. He didn't know if he fell into a painful sleep again but it seemed only seconds later that one of the Templar guards was rattling a key in the lock. Hawke hoped for a second that they had decided to feed him, but disheartened again when he saw there was no food or water whatsoever.

"Up," the Templar demanded again in the same strict tone. Hawke wanted to argue, but he knew he needed to save his energy for Meredith's daughter. Again he followed the silent Templar to the same room and his hands were bound again, though this time there was a stool, not a chair. Meredith's daughter appeared almost immediately.

"Good morning Haemon," she said with a dark smile. Hawke knew by that expression that she had something planned.

"Good morning, Meredith Junior.

"Taia. My name is Taia."

"Well, aren't we getting on swimmingly? First name basis and everything."

"Yes…perhaps you might be a bit more cooperative today."

"Depends if you ask cooperative questions."

"Oh don't worry, we've just received information from a new informer about the terrorist. And his connection to you."

"Did you now?"

"Anders must miss you terribly."

Hawke's heart dropped when Taia mentioned his lover's name. Somehow she knew about Anders and that scared Hawke more than anything.

"Oh look at you, you've gone all pale. You must miss Anders terribly as well."

"You…" Hawke said softly.

"What was that?"

"You…stay away from Anders."

Taia laughed, "We'll see. Maybe I will if you're cooperative."

Hawke didn't reply. The tables had suddenly turned.

"Now, since the mage rebellion, many mages around Thedas have been forming resistance groups. And we know that you are involved with many of them."

It was true that since Kirkwall he and Anders had been moving from mage resistance to mage resistance, aiding where they could. Hawke knew that the information he held was important, and vital to the mage cause. He straightened his posture and took on a businesslike manner. It was his duty now not to break.

"I am not involved with any mage resistance."

Taia nodded. For a moment Hawke though she was nodding a reply but quickly realised she had nodded at the man behind him. The man brought a heavy whip down across Hawke's back, tearing the thin fabric of his shirt. The whip bearer grabbed the shirt and ripped it off, revealing Hawke's naked back. Hawke shivered in the sudden cold.

"As you can see, I am better prepared today," Taia said, "And don't hesitate to think I won't use these again." She flexed the slender steel fingers of her gauntlets, "So be a dear and tell us about the mage resistance."

Hawke figured it would be best today to stay silent. After a few seconds of silence, the whip was brought down on his back again, though this time it hit the naked flesh of his back. Hawke hissed in pain.

"Maybe an easier question. Where are the mage rebels located?"

"Everywhere."

The whip lashed his back again. Though this time Taia let Hawke receive half a dozen lashings before continuing her questioning. On the last blow, Hawke fell onto the floor onto his hands and knees. Taia kicked his head upward.

"Look at you squirm now, mage."

"I'm not going to tell you anything…"

"You think today will be the end of it? No, we have much more for you, and for your kind."

"Your mother would be proud."

"You didn't know my mother," Taia spat.

"Yes I did."

"Then tell me messere Hawke…who killed my mother?"

Her voice had suddenly cracked. Somehow, she did not know the truth of her mother's fate. Hawke smiled…he had found her weakness.

"It was the red lyrium."

"Yes…but, she was using it in battle. It was whoever she was fighting that truly killed her…"

"I did."

"What?" she said, voice wavering.

"If you put it that way…then I killed your mother."

Hawke wasn't sure why he was telling her this. Perhaps he felt that she had a duty to know, after what happened to his own mother. But Hawke truly thought that he could break her this way- make her hesitate for a moment and escape. But Taia was suddenly consumed with rage. She rammed her steel boot into Hawke's ribs with such force Hawke could almost hear his ribs snapping. He cried out but she continued the attack relentlessly. She brought her foot down on Hawke's arm with a sickening crack. It was at that moment Hawke knew that it was a mistake to reveal his battle with Meredith. He thought that he could defeat Taia with the revelation, but if anything it made her stronger. Things were starting to move in slow motion as Hawke desperately tried to crawl away. In fading vision Hawke saw Taia step backwards and he hoped for a moment she was done.

"Sergeant," she said to the whip wielder, "I want to see his back red."

The Templar happily agreed and began an onslaught with the whip. It was taking all of Hawke's power just to stay conscious as lash upon lash came down upon him. Suddenly, Hawke saw a newcomer in the room but he was so disoriented he couldn't even see their face.

"What…what are you doing?" the newcomer said in a familiar voice.

"Teaching this mage a lesson."

"You're going to kill him!"

"Good."

"But…if you do you will lose vital information."

"He killed my mother!"

"And he'll kill a lot more like her if we don't find out more about the mages!"

Taia paused for a moment, before ordering the sergeant to stop. As the onslaught finally stopped, Hawke looked up at the two figures standing in the doorway. Taia stood there looking livid and the other…the other Hawke couldn't believe. Hawke tried to call out his name but it came out as a hoarse croak,

"Fen…ris?"

Before he could see his reaction, Hawke fell into unconsciousness.

Anders approached the fortress in the cover of the forest. He peered through the trees at the guards standing at the gates. There were only four, which would be a challenge but not impossible. He took the staff from his back and began to sneak forward. But he only took a few steps when a hand came from behind him and covered his mouth. A sack was quickly thrown over his head. Anders began to fight back, but he felt something jabbed into his side. Seconds later, he felt himself shutting down and joining Hawke in unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4: Old Grudges

Fenris sat idly in the only well-furnished room in the fortress. It was Taia's room. He had been summoned by her to discuss Templar matters. At the last battle of Kirkwall, he had sided with the Templars and had planned to stay with them until the whole mage verses Templar problem blew over. But it had not, and he found himself working for Meredith's daughter. Fenris didn't like Taia- there was something about her cruelty that reminded him of the Magisters. And her Templars' use of the whip gave him second thoughts. After the staff, the whip was the Tevinter Magisters' favourite weapon. On top of that, he had no idea that Taia had caught Hawke until earlier that day. Fenris held bitter feelings against Hawke after their battle, yet it still pained him to see Hawke weakened as he was. He wouldn't have minded a few decent punches at Hawke, but to beat him senseless and then use the whip against him…he thought it too much. But there was nothing he could do. He began to drum his fingers on the table anxiously. Taia was late. Fenris was about to leave when Taia came into the room. He noticed her hands were stained with blood.

"Sorry I'm late," she said as she sat down opposite him at the table, "I had to deal with Hawke."

The last Fenris had seen of Hawke, he was being dragged away. Fenris assumed he was being returned to his cell.

"Oh."

"Tea?" Taia offered, "Or something a bit stronger?"

Usually Fenris gladly accepted offerings of alcohol, but the sight of Hawke had put off his appetite.

"No, thank you."

"I suppose we should get to business then," she said, laying out some papers in front of her. It was a map of Thedas with various markings.

"These marks show where we believe the mage rebels are hiding. We are in the process of confirming them."

"I see."

Fenris hated to think what she meant by 'confirming them'.

"There are many around the border of Tevinter here which suggests…"

Taia was broken off by the sound of muffled pained screaming a few floors below them. Fenris looked at her inquisitively.

"Oh don't mind that. It shouldn't be long."

"What's happening?"

Taia smiled,

"We're confirming these locations."

Fenris shifted uncomfortably. Despite being muffled, the screams sounded like Hawke's voice.

"Now, we were wondering if you would be willing to take some Templars to investigate these nearby locations," she said, indicating a few of the markings on the map. Fenris nodded, but was still offset by the painful cries. If that was Hawke, whatever they were doing to him was more than a beating.

The meeting continued for ten more minutes or so when suddenly the pained cries stopped. Taia looked up,

"Ah, be back in a moment."

She stood up a disappeared for a few minutes. She came back with a new piece of paper. She laid it out on the table and Fenris saw it was another map of Thedas. There were one or two markings, but they had been drawn by a shaking hand. There was also a vivid red splash of blood on the paper.

"Our friend has generously confirmed a couple of mage hideouts, but we still believe he is withholding information, so I'll have to get back to you on that."

Fenris felt a little sick thinking about what they must have done to Hawke to get him to reveal that information.

"How much more are you going to get out of him?" Fenris asked softly.

"We have something very special lined up for him."

"I see," Fenris said grimly. Since their last meeting, Fenris harboured a great deal of anger towards Hawke, and he hadn't let that anger go. But he didn't hate him. He never had. Taia noticed his hesitation.

"Before, when we were getting information out of Hawke, he said your name. Have you two met before?"

Fenris looked up, surprised. He thought his connection to Hawke was known by everyone. For a while, half of Kirkwall had been gossiping about how Hawke had an elven lover. But that didn't last, and neither did their relationship. But it had been long enough to make everyone in Kirkwall associate Fenris and Hawke together. It seemed Taia was unaware of their past.

"I…we…were friends back in Kirkwall."

"You? Friends with a mage?" Taia laughed. If she knew one thing, she knew Fenris hated mages.

"I thought he might have been different. But I was wrong," Fenris sighed.

"What made you change your mind?"

"He tried to kill me," Fenris explained, "Because I had sided with the Templars."

Fenris didn't mentioned that it was he who attacked Hawke in the first place. Technically, Hawke had retaliated in self-defence.

"He seemed surprised to see you before," Taia questioned.

"Because he thinks I'm dead."

Taia smiled. Her smile was a little too sweet for Fenris' liking. She put a gauntleted hand on Fenris' own.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore. You're a Templar now."

Fenris didn't know how to reply. So he said nothing, and left.


	5. Chapter 5: Breaking Point

Hawke had no energy left to think. Everything around him seemed far away, like he was watching the world from underwater. He was again in his cell, but was denied even the simple joy of sleep. Instead, he sat in the corner of the cell cradling a broken and burning arm. Taia had broken it the day before, but then the Templars had done something else. It currently hung in a makeshift sling they had given him. Hawke tried to remember back to what had happened, but all he could remember was searing pain and nothing else. He was too afraid to even remove the bandages that wound up to his shoulder. Whatever they had done that was so painful to leave a scar in his mind like this must have left a physical scar as well, one that Hawke wasn't prepared to see. So Hawke remained still and silent, not even moving a muscle- the slightest movement sent waves of pain through his body. When he heard the footsteps of the Templar approaching he groaned.

"For Andraste's sake what else can you do to me?"

"There's someone here to see you," the Templar said. For a moment, Hawke was confused until he remembered Anders. Hawke began to panic. He could handle the Templar's torture, but he knew Anders wouldn't be able to. He stood up, ignoring the pain and shuffled after the Templar. He had to see Anders. A couple of times his injuries caused him to stumble to the ground, but the Templar simply grabbed him and pulled him up again. Hawke noticed that the Templar was leading him to a part of the fortress he had not seen before. Suddenly, the Templar threw open a door and Hawke found himself outside. After being in the dark for the last few days, the light was blinding. A few seconds later his eyes began to adjust to the light level. He was standing on a platform above a pit below. Hawke realised the fort must have once been a castle, as castles often such pits where lords would watch knights fight each other or wild animals. Taia was sitting on a crumbling stone throne that overlooked the pit,

"I'm glad you could join me Hawke," she said. She raised a goblet of wine to her mouth. Hawke licked his dry lips at the sight of a beverage. He hadn't eaten or drank in days.

"We have some entertainment for you," she said. Hawke forced out a fake smile,

"I do hope it's a Templar riding a miniature pony."

"Even better," she said, "Bring out the apostate."

A steel gate groaned open below and a man was thrown out into the centre of the pit.

"Anders!" Hawke shouted. Anders looked up, and to his relief Hawke saw that he hadn't been beaten. Anders face melted into shock and worry as he saw Hawke's condition.

"Go say hello if you want," Taia said, pointed to a set of wooden stairs that led down into the pit. Hawke looked at her suspiciously, but began to descend down the stairs anyway. If they were going to kill them, Hawke figured he might as well die with Anders. Before saying anything, Anders grabbed Hawke and kissed him passionately. Hawke replied eagerly, thankful to be with his lover once again. Anders pulled away. Hawke saw that he was crying.

"I…thought you were dead…" Anders sniffled.

"Me? Pfft, you should've known better than that," Hawke replied, comforting his shaken lover.

"What have they done to you?" Anders asked, noticing Hawke's numerous injuries.

"Nothing that won't heal," Hawke said. He lowered his voice more so the others would not hear,

"You need to get out of here, Anders."

"Not without you."

"Time's up!" Taia called from the platform. Hawke remained in the pit, holding on to Anders' hands. A Templar grabbed the back of his bloodstained shirt and yanked him back up the stairs. Hawke glanced across and saw Fenris had appeared, and was now standing next to Taia.

"I see you've got a new master, Fenris," Hawke said to him with a poisonous glare, "Old habits die hard, I suppose."

Hawke expected Fenris to retaliate angrily, but he just looked at him sadly.

"Hawke," Taia said, "I've heard you're quite fond of Mabari hounds."

"What about them…" Hawke replied. He had an idea of what was about to happen and suddenly felt the urge to throw up. Taia motioned to an unseen Templar and the steel gate opened below again. Anders swivelled to face the sound. Out of the gates bounded a rabid looking hound. It began to run straight for Anders.

"No…no…no Taia you can't…" Hawke pleaded, his words turning into sobs. The dog pounced at Anders, knocking him to the ground. The beast began to tear at the exposed flesh of Anders' arms.

"Oh, and we temporarily took away his magic," Taia said. Helpless, Anders tried to push to beast back but the dog was powerful. As Anders' screams reached his ears, Hawke looked away, but a Templar forced him to turn his head back and watch. The dog's powerful jaws started ripping at Anders' throat. Blood began pooling around Anders as he struggled against the beast. Anders' screams began burning into Hawke's brain more than the torture had burnt his arm yesterday. Anders' movements were becoming weaker and weaker…

"Stop," Hawke sobbed.

"What was that?" Taia asked cruelly.

"I said stop! I'll tell you everything…just…stop."

"Good lad."

Taia gave a low whistle and the hound stopped its attack. Before Hawke could look down to see if Anders was alive, A Templar grabbed him forcefully and shoved him back inside. Hawke looked over at Fenris. He was staring down at Anders, shocked. Hawke thought he even looked a little upset. Hawke lost sight of Fenris as the Templar forced him through the dark corridors and into Taia's room. On the table was the map of Thedas that he had marked the day before. Again, with a shaking hand, Hawke picked up the quill and marked all the mage rebellion strongholds he knew of.

"See, that wasn't so hard…" Taia said, picking up the map and rolling it up. Hawke glared at her.

"You're a monster."

"So are you."

Another Templar knocked on the door.

"Excuse me for a moment, Hawke."

Hawke started at his feet. To think, a few days ago he was trying to find Taia's weakness. Yet in that time she had found his and exploited it. Hawke clenched his fist on his good arm. His only goal now was to get himself and Anders out of this hell.

"Thank you, private," Taia said, dismissing the Templar.

"Hawke…"

Hawke slowly looked up at Taia.

"Anders is dead." She said, a little smugly.

Hawke felt as if his heart suddenly stopped. The world suddenly felt like it had come to a standstill, as if there was no point for it to exist anymore. Hawke lunged at Taia, but she merely stepped to the side, and Hawke crashed to the floor. He made no move to get up. Hot tears began to stream down his face, but he tried not to sob in front of Taia, an effort that was failing. He had tried to break her, but now Hawke knew that she had broken him.


	6. Chapter 6: Old Friends

Later that night, Fenris snuck from his room and headed towards the dungeons. Fenris never liked Anders, in fact sometimes he had even hated the mage. But to do that to him, and Hawke, was inhumane. Fenris had seen and experienced too much cruelty in his life. He didn't want to see anymore, and he didn't want Hawke to experience it either. As he approached the dungeons, he saw a guard standing at the entrance to the hallway. Fenris emerged from the shadows.

"What are you doing here?" the guard asked sleepily. Before he could react, Fenris shot his hand through the Templar's chest, grabbing his heart. The Templar spluttered before collapsing to the ground dead. Fenris grabbed his keys and set off down the hallway to find Hawke. All of the cells were empty except for one near the back. Fenris held up a lantern and saw a figure huddled in the corner.

"Hawke?" he asked. There was no reply.

"Hawke, it's Fenris."

Hawke lifted his head slightly. Fenris saw they at least had the decency to give him a rough blanket. Even in the low light, Fenris could see Hawke's eyes were red from crying.

"Go away," he mumbled.

"Hawke, I'm going to get you out of here."

"Is that right? How do I know this isn't another cruel trick? You are working for them after all."

"I didn't want…I didn't expect…"

"You didn't expect them to do this? This is what Templars do best…" Hawke said angrily, but still weakly.

"They're going to kill you in the morning you know."

"Good."

Fenris stared at Hawke. Gone was the powerful, strong hero he had once known. In his place was a weak, shivering man who had given up on life.

"Is that it? You're just going to give up?"

Hawke said nothing. Fenris was about to give up and leave Hawke as a lost cause. But Hawke spoke up,

"Do you know why you're really here?"

"To help fight the mages."

Hawke shook his head. He slowly began to stand up, using the wall as support. He stumbled over to the bars and looked Fenris in the eye. He began to unwind the bandages on his broken arm. As the bandages fell to the floor, Fenris started at Hawke's arm in horror.

"No…"

There, on his arm, were lyrium tattoos identical to his. Except instead of being a white-blue like Fenris' they were white-red, indicating they had used the much more potent red lyrium.

"They only wanted you…to see that it was possible. To recreate your old master's creation."

Fenris didn't know what to say. All he could recall from the day he received the lyrium tattoos was pain. And now, that pain had been inflicted on another person. And they had used red lyrium, which would have hurt twice as much. What was worse, the only way the Templars could have known the procedure is if they had Danarius' notes. Without another word, Fenris rattled the key in the lock and swung the door open. But Hawke had already resumed his position in the corner.

"Come on, Hawke," Fenris said impatiently. But Hawke wouldn't move. Fenris saw his eyes had glazed over. He was staring into the distance at nothing.

"There's no point…" he mumbled.

"That's it," Fenris said. Fenris lifted him up into a standing position, and threw Hawke's good arm over his shoulder. Slowly but surely, they began to shuffle down the hallway. Hawke was walking, but his eyes were devoid of purpose. He was following because he was led. Fenris took the back hallways to an unused exit. He hoped the cool air of the night would wake Hawke a bit but his eyes remained empty as Fenris pulled him outside. He had organised two horses for them, but it didn't look like Hawke was going to be able to ride.

"Hawke, can you get on the horse?" he asked. Hawke said nothing, and looked down at his feet. Fenris sighed,

"You're not making this easy…"

Fenris gave Hawke a hooded cloak to conceal his face. He slid it on without a word. Fenris hauled Hawke up onto his horse and climbed up himself after him. He would have to ride with Hawke sitting in front of him, otherwise the broken mage would simply fall off in his state. Without a glance back, Fenris spurred the horse forward and headed far, far away from the evil of Fort Dival.

They rode until Fort Dival was far behind them. It was then Fenris realised that Hawke hadn't eaten in days. He slowed the horse to a steady trot and turned it off the road. It didn't take long to find a suitable clearing in the forest far enough from the road to remain concealed. Fenris swung down from the horse and went to help Hawke down. To his surprise, Hawke had already dismounted the horse and was sitting on a fallen log. Fenris decided it would be best to leave him be for a bit. In the meantime, he got a fire started and began to cook some provisions he had stolen. The smell of cooking food caught Hawke's attention. He got up from his seat, shuffled over to the fire and sat down again. Fenris handed him a plate of food. Hawke grabbed it eagerly and began shoving the food down. As he ate, Fenris swore he could see some life return to Hawke's eyes. Fenris handed him the water skin and Hawke drank deeply.

"Thank you…" he croaked. It was the first words he had said since he had shown Fenris the tattoos.

"I'm…I'm sorry about Anders…"

"I…" sadness filled his eyes again and Fenris was worried he was going to cry, "What is done is done."

Fenris was surprised at the reply. He knew Hawke wouldn't be over Anders quickly but it seemed like he had come to terms to the fact that he was gone surprisingly fast. Fenris knew Hawke was strong, but no one was that strong. He was hiding his pain from him.

"And I'm sorry for what they did to you."

Hawke glanced down to the arm in the sling. The edges of the tattoos were still raw and bloody and the lyrium still glowed slightly from the procedure.

"I don't know how you did it," Hawke said softly.

"Did what?"

"Survive having that done to your whole body. One arm was agony enough. I don't know if I could have withstood the whole procedure."

"Now do you see why I hate mages so much," Fenris asked. Hawke looked up angrily.

"Do you see why I hate Templars?"

"Templars are not to blame. Those Templars were just particularly brutal…"

Hawke stood up. The sudden movement made him sway a little, but he stood firmly.

"Those Templars? Fenris, all Templars would gladly see this done to all mages! They are all the same! I have lost someone I love to the Templars."

"And you lost someone you love to magic as well," Fenris said quietly, referring to Hawke's mother. Hawke picked his staff up off the ground.

"You just don't understand, do you?" he said, limping towards Fenris using his staff for support. Fenris wondered whether stealing and giving back Hawke's weapon had been a good idea. Fenris thought Hawke was going to attack him, but instead Hawke sighed and began to walk away.

"I loved you once, Fenris," Hawke said softly, barely a whisper, "But how could I love someone who hated what I am?"

"At least I'm not an abomination!"

The flames of the fire suddenly flared as Hawke's power began to be driven by his emotions. Flames were spilling from his hands,

"Don't you say a word against Anders!"

"He was dangerous, Hawke! He could have killed you!"

"Yea? Like how you tried to kill me?" Hawke snapped. Fenris stepped backwards, surprised by Hawke's sudden rage. Hawke had never been an angry man, yet here he stood with a burning fire in his eyes.

"Hawke…" Fenris said, walking towards him slowly with his hands extended to show he meant no harm. He noticed that the lyrium tattoos on Hawke's arm were glowing violently. Fenris had no idea how the tattoos would influence a mage, but they seemed to be causing Hawke great pain.

"Please, Hawke,"

Hawke gripped his staff tighter, but something faltered in his eyes,

"I know rage more than anyone Hawke. I've held onto it for years. But a man once told me that it was why I could never move on…"

Hawke's grip on his staff loosened slightly,

"Don't let it do to you what it's done to me."

Hawke looked at Fenris for a long while before turning his back to him. He began to limp towards the horse.

"I have to go, Fenris."

"What? Where?"

"Anywhere. Far away from you. Far away from anyone," Hawke muttered, "I just…need some time alone."

"Hawke, you can't just leave. You're not recovered from…"

"What does it matter?" he said, climbing up onto Fenris' horse with a grunt, "It seems death likes following me. I've lost everyone who was close to me. Don't make me lose you too."

Fenris was silent, lost for words and could do nothing as he watched Hawke spur the horse forward and disappear into the trees.


	7. Chapter 7: A Gentle Touch

Fenris was unsure of how to proceed. Half of him wanted to pursue Hawke but the other wanted to just let Hawke be. But Fenris was worried for Hawke's safety, and the safety of anyone he encountered. He had no idea what the broken mage could do in his state. The way he was, Fenris was worried he would turn back to blood magic in order to extract revenge on the Templars. In the last few years, Hawke had turned to blood magic to make himself more powerful, if only to protect his friends. And the only way to truly learn blood magic was through a demon. Fenris knew Hawke had approached a desire demon named Dreamweaver to grant him powers. Hawke had killed the demon, he had always afraid that Dreamweaver was not truly dead, and would hunt him down again. Fenris hated to think of the damage Hawke could do if the demon found him once more. In his state, he was open to possession. Fenris' heart sank at the thought of Hawke becoming an abomination.

"Why do I even care?" Fenris said aloud to no one as he kicked the dirt moodily. It didn't make any sense to him. He resented Hawke. He had turned against Hawke and vowed never to aid him again. Fenris thought back to their final battle in Kirkwall. He remembered lying bleeding and dying on the ground at Hawke's hand. The only reason he survived was because the Templars saved him. And yet he still worried about Hawke. Fenris thought back further to before things had turned sour between him and the Champion. Hawke had been the first person in his life to care about him, the first person to show him compassion, to show him love. Could he forget that? Could he leave behind those blissful few months in which he called Hawke his own? Fenris didn't know. All he knew was that he had to find Hawke, and he had to find him fast.

Fenris headed back to the road and followed the direction Hawke had taken. Fenris knew he couldn't catch up to Hawke, not while he was on horseback. But he knew in that in his state he wouldn't even last that long on a horse. Fenris began to contemplate what his next move would be after he found Hawke. He would stay with him until he recovered, but then what? Would he let Hawke return to his cause of freeing the mages? Would he stay with Hawke? Fenris felt like he didn't know much about his future. He figured he would sort it out on the way.

Fenris had been walking down the north road for about an hour and a half when a riderless horse came cantering past. He stopped the creature and calmed it down. It was the horse Hawke had been riding. Fenris looked ahead for any signs of Hawke but could see none. However, as he continued down the road, he saw the bushes on the side of the road had been pushed apart as if someone had tried to crawl through them. Fenris peered through the trees and sure enough there was Hawke, lying on his side and obviously in pain. Fenris hurried over to him. He rolled him over and saw that his sling had come undone and that his broken arm had no support.

"See this is what happens when you go storming off," Fenris said. Hawke chuckled, but the laugh turned into a painful cough.

"I'm sorry, I had to. If Dreamweaver finds me…" Hawke said weakly. Fenris understood why Hawke had stormed off now. Hawke knew he was susceptible to possession right now. And he had left to save Fenris from witnesses it.

"Don't worry about that for now," Fenris said. Hawke smiled sweetly. He never smiled like that unless he was truly thankful for something. And yet that smile broke Fenris' heart, "Come on."

Fenris went to help Hawke to his feet after he had repositioned the sling, but Hawke cried out in pain when he tried to move his torso.

"By the Maker, Hawke, you must have some broken ribs as well."

Fenris slowly lifted Hawke up into a standing position and again put his arm around his own shoulder.

"I saw a cave not from the road near here. We can rest there for a while."

The short distance took a while to cover with Hawke limping as he was. Fenris was also considerably smaller than Hawke and it was difficult to keep him supported. Though it was a lot easier than the night before as Hawke was now using his staff to support himself. When they reached the cave, Hawke lowered himself to the ground and leant back against the cool stone wall of the cave. Fenris went back out and retrieved the horse that was still loaded with the food and medical supplies Fenris had scavenged before they fled the fortress. He tethered the horse to a tree outside before attending to Hawke. Fenris didn't know a great deal about medicine or tending wounds, but he begrudgingly admitted that he had picked up a thing or two from watching Anders. He did know, however, that Hawke's wounds needed to be cleaned before anything else. Fenris knelt down in front of Hawke. Hawke couldn't raise his arm to get his shirt off so Fenris had to cut it off.

"You expect me to sit here shirtless all day?" Hawke asked.

"There is a town up ahead. I'll buy some more supplies there."

Hawke nodded. Fenris expected a remark from Hawke about his nakedness, but none came. Though Hawke was talking now, Fenris saw in his eyes that Hawke was still grieving.

Fenris dipped a cloth in a bowl of water and began to gently clean the gashes on Hawke's front. There weren't too many, but he knew the worst injuries would be on his back from the whip. Hawke was silent except for an occasional hiss of pain as the cold cloth touched the wounds. Fenris found the task a little difficult. Not because he couldn't clean the wounds, but because he actually found it painful to look at the bruises that covered Hawke's body. There seemed to be more black and blue on him than normal skin. Especially around his ribs. Fenris had no idea how to get the obviously fractured bones to mend.

"You know, we might need to get you to a healer," Fenris said.

"Anders…was so good at healing…" Hawke said sadly. Fenris looked up at him. His eyes grew moist for a second but he blinked a few times and the tears were gone. Fenris wanted to change the subject, but he didn't know what to say. So he remained silent.

As he wrung out the blood stained cloth, Fenris noticed the scars on Hawke's stomach. It was an old puncture wound from where Hawke thrust his own staff through his abdomen, along with slicing open his arms, when using blood magic. When using said magic, Hawke was firmly against using the blood of others and only used his own. He would impale himself on his staff to spill blood to power his spells. Fenris hated it when he did it in battle, as it would often leave Hawke dizzy and disorientated from the loss of blood. Fenris also noticed that the scars on his arms were rather new.

"Hawke, have you still been using blood magic?" Fenris asked disapprovingly.

"I had to," was Hawke's firm and short reply. Fenris nodded, but was not satisfied, nor did he approve. He had been furious when he had discovered Hawke was a blood mage. It was one of the things that had made him turn on Hawke. But that was in the past now.

"I'm going to have to see the cuts on your back as well," Fenris said. Without a word, Hawke moved with a wince of pain so that he was sitting cross legged with Fenris behind him. Fenris gasped softly when he saw Hawke's back. The Templars had not been reluctant when using the whip. Hawke's back was a bloodied mess of gashes. Fenris went to the task of wiping away the dirt and dry blood and bandaging the terrible wounds. Hawke kept flinching at Fenris' touch but said nothing. After a painstaking while, Fenris tied the final bandage around Hawke's torso. It was an amateur job, but it would do for now. The sun was starting to set outside and darkness was starting to creep into the cave, along with the cold. The chill made Hawke shiver involuntarily.

"I'll be back in a bit," Fenris said, getting up to go find some firewood. Luckily they were in a rather heavily forested area and it only took him ten minutes to find enough suitable kindling. When he returned, he saw Hawke curled up on the ground. He panicked for a moment as he thought something was wrong but by the steady rise and fall of Hawke's chest, Fenris realised he was sleeping. He found it surprising that he could sleep on the cold ground, but after all Hawke had not slept properly in days. Fenris went about lighting a fire to keep him and his companion warm through the night. Fenris shivered as he retrieved the blanket from the horse, hoping to warm himself. To his dismay, he could only find one blanket. With a sigh, he draped the rough blanket over Hawke's sleeping figure as he resigned to a night in the cold like all those nights in Tevinter years ago.


	8. Chapter 8: A Chance to Rekindle

Fenris had dozed off into a dreamless sleep but was awoken by mumbling coming from Hawke. As he quickly recovered his awareness, he saw Hawke tossing under the blanket and breathing heavily. He occasionally muttered something but all Fenris could decipher was "No" and "Anders". Fenris considered waking Hawke, but he knew it was dangerous to suddenly sever a mage's connection to the Fade. Especially since dreaming would be a dangerous task for Hawke now that demons were drawn to him. Suddenly, Hawke woke himself and bolted upright. Small beads of sweat were running down his face mingling with what looked like tears. Hawke was disoriented for a moment but relaxed when he regained his senses.

"Sorry," he apologised, "Did I wake you?"

"No," Fenris lied, "I was awake already."

Hawke's voice was shaky. Fenris realised that the events at Fort Dival had taken a huge mental and emotional toll on Hawke, as well as physical. It wasn't something he was going to forget quickly. Hawke turned to face the front of the cave where weak sunlight was just starting to shine through the forest. He looked back to Fenris and then down at the ground again. It seemed there was still an awkward air between them as neither made a move to start a conversation.

"I suppose I will head back to the mages today," Hawke said casually, "They're probably freaking out without me."

Even though it was a joke, it held some truth. Hawke had become a figurehead for the mage resistance and the mages would be lost without the Champion to guide them. Hawke reached for his staff and used it to prop himself up as he stood. He managed to walk, but Fenris could see him wince in pain with each step. For a moment, Fenris considered letting him go. But then he realised Hawke wouldn't make it one day without being found by the Templars again in his state.

"Hawke, wait."

Hawke stopped and turned back around to face him, still leaning on the staff.

"You won't make it anywhere. At least not for a few days."

"Then what do you propose I do?"

"You…" Fenris was surprised at himself. He wanted Hawke to stay, despite both of them being aligned to very different causes, "You could…you should stay with me until you recover."  
Hawke raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.

"There's a town not far from here," Fenris said with a cough, "I'm going to go get supplies. Will you…be okay while I'm gone?

"I'm sure I can handle it," Hawke replied. Fenris hurried out of the cave and headed for the village, but he could feel Hawke's eyes watching him as he went.

The next few days passed without incident. Fenris made Hawke stay in the cave to ensure that he was strong enough to ride. Once convinced, he bought a horse from the town and the pair headed south. After the shock passed of discovering he was alive, Hawke was glad Fenris wasn't dead. Even though he figured Fenris hated him. He wondered if he still did. That's what perplexed Hawke; Fenris had no reason to free him from the Templars' grasp, but he did. And even now he was caring for him, cleaning his wounds and buying food for him. It didn't make any sense, at least not to him. But he had little energy for speculation. Everything still seemed to hurt and Hawke couldn't free his mind of Anders. Every time he tried to think of something else, his mind would bring him back to image of his dead lover. And each time it was more painful the physical wounds. So instead he found it better to think of nothing. The trip south was eerily silent as Hawke's mouth remained closed. Each night they would stop and Fenris would check his bandages and change them if necessary. And with each night, Hawke spoke less and less.

While he had eaten hungrily on the first night, he now seemed to reject food. Fenris desperately tried to get Hawke to eat, but each meal would remain untouched. Hawke was starting to look thin as it was, and Fenris was worried that Hawke was starving himself. Fenris couldn't believe how much Hawke was affecting him. For the first time since Kirkwall, Fenris was dearly missing Hawke's jibes and joking comments. Hawke's bright nature was a defining part of him, and he seemed incomplete without it. One evening as Hawke again refused his meal, Fenris decided conversation might bring the old Hawke back.

"So I was thinking," Fenris started, "Since we are approaching the Waking Sea, I was thinking we should get passage to Ferelden."

Hawke looked up at the mention of his homeland. Fenris was overjoyed to see a spark of interest in his eyes.

"I've never been to Ferelden," Fenris continued, hoping the statement was a cue for Hawke to elaborate. He was glad to see that it was as Hawke spoke up.  
"It's a lot different to Kirkwall, and a lot different again to Tevinter. As Merrill once said, it's brown and full of mud and dogs, but that's what gives it character."

Fenris inquired more, and soon Hawke was on an unstoppable tale about Ferelden. It was the first night of many that he actually strung more than a few words together. Fenris couldn't help but smiling softly as he watched the life return to Hawke. While his left arm remained limp in the sling, he was waving his right arm about dramatically to add flair to his story. Fenris tried offering the food again, and to his delight Hawke took it. By the end of the evening, Hawke was snoozing quietly again while Fenris remained on watch. Except this time Hawke tossed and mumbled considerably less, which lead Fenris to think that perhaps Hawke was on his way to putting his mind at ease. He couldn't help but watch Hawke as he slept. There was something comforting about the steady rise and fall of his muscled chest. And for the first time since their relationship in Kirkwall, Fenris felt like things were on the rise. Being back near Hawke had rekindled feelings he had tried so hard to supress. Fenris had always figured his rage was directed at Hawke, but he knew now that he was truly angry with Anders, for he had been the one to take Hawke away from him. Fenris regretted leaving Hawke, though it had seemed like the right decision at the time. But Hawke's bed had barely cooled before Anders had jumped into it. The worst thing was that Fenris had planned on returning to Hawke after he had sorted things out, but by the time he returned, Hawke was infatuated with Anders. He had a new love for Anders that couldn't compete with Fenris. And so Fenris retreated to his lonely Hightown home and welcomed back the bitterness that Hawke had managed to dissipate. But Anders was gone, and Hawke was his to cherish.

The pair reached another town the next morning, though Fenris quickly stopped Hawke as they approached. Fenris had spotted Red Templars roaming around the town, and they would be on high alert after Hawke's escape. Knowing it would be too risky to bring Hawke into town, Fenris left him in the trees on the outskirt as he hurried in to buy food and medical supplies. Hawke was on the mend, but he still needed health potions to stay on top. Fenris' heart jumped as he entered the store as he saw two Red Templars milling around inside. He kept his hood up and hoped it was enough. Fenris tried to remain inconspicuous as he collected supplies, but he couldn't help overhearing the Templars' conversation.

"Any signs of the apostate?"

"Nah. I bet he's long gone now."

"Hm. Good lie the Commander made or else he'd be back and killing us all."  
"What lie was that?"

"Oh you didn't hear? Commander Taia told the Champion that his boyfriend was dead. Not true, of course. We couldn't throw away information like that."

"I heard he was torn apart by the hounds?"

The other Templar laughed,

"To a degree. They kept him alive though. Barely."

Fenris' heart sank. Anders was alive. And he was still at Fort Dival. If Hawke found out, then he would do anything to get his love back. Anders was his everything. Fenris smiled slyly under his hood. Hawke would die to save Anders. But not if he didn't know.


	9. Chapter 9: Dreamweaver

Due to the large number of Templars in the town, Fenris decided it would be best if Hawke avoided the town altogether. He also didn't want to risk Hawke hearing the news about Anders. Fenris felt a little guilty at first for withholding the information from him, especially at the sight of Hawke's depressed demeanour when he returned. But as soon as he arrived, Hawke perked up and was ready to get moving. The day's ride was uneventful though Fenris was glad to see the forest around them become thicker. Before, the trees were quite sparse making it difficult to hide from the Templars, but now they offered plenty of cover. But as sundown approached, Hawke let out a yelp of pain.

"What's wrong?" Fenris asked, quickly looking across at the mage.

"The lyrium…" Hawke replied through gritted, glancing down at his arm. The red lyrium in his arm was starting to glow for no particular reason. Fenris had never seen such a thing before. But then again, he had never dealt with red lyrium. Fenris saw Hawke grip the reins with his good hand so tightly that his knuckles went white. He was obviously in a lot of pain.

"We can stop for the night up ahead," Fenris said, "If I recall, there's an abandoned logging hut up ahead. It should do."

Hawke nodded a reply, not wanting to cry out from the burning pain in his arm. Fenris was right, there was a disused house off the road and Hawke quickly hurried inside while Fenris tied up the horses. With a flick of his good hand, the fireplace was filled with cheery flames. Hawke sat down in a chair in front of the fire and began to inspect the tattoos, though he was gentle with the broken bone. Fenris came over to have a look at the tattoos as well, but Hawke motioned for him to stop.

"Wait," he said.

"What's the problem?"

Hawke was silent for a moment, "I can sense…there's demons nearby."

"You're telling me that those tattoos attract demons? Yet mine don't?"

"It might have something to do with my connection to the Fade."

Hawke looked grim. Demons were bad news for everyone, but they were especially bad news for mages.

"You should get some sleep," Hawke said, "I don't think it's safe for me to sleep right now."

Fenris nodded. Mages were aware in the Fade when they slept. It was clear Hawke was afraid of dealing with demons in the Fade right now.

"Stay up as long as you want, but I don't think we need a watch. This road is barely used. The Templars will take the main road."

There were two beds in the house, on at either end of the one room. Fenris took the leftmost bed while Hawke moved to the window and gazed at the silent forest outside. Fenris was unsure whether to comfort him or not, but he looked deep in thought. Thinking it better to let him be, Fenris decided to get some sleep.

He was standing in a field that looked oddly familiar. As Hawke looked up at the sky, he saw a towering city on the horizon draped in baleful black. It was the Black City, and he was in the Fade. He hadn't wanted to sleep, but tiredness had gotten the better of him. Hawke tentatively began to walk forward while watching everything around him. He was paranoid. He was afraid. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the distance in a black feathered coat. Hawke reached for his staff, but there was none. A light breeze blew past him, carrying whispers.

I'm sorry Hawke.

I would drown us in blood.

Drown…

…In blood…

Hawke tried to block out the voices, but they were strong, and he was weak. The figure began to run towards him like he was greeting someone he hadn't seen in years.

"Stay back…" Hawke said, though it came out as more of a whimper. The closer the figure got, the more Hawke could see that it was Anders.

"You're dead. This is the Fade," Hawke said more to himself than anyone. Anders stopped a few meters in front of him. He looked sad.

"But Hawke, it's me," the fake Anders said. Hawke backed away, tears welling in his eyes.

"No, you're a demon."

Anders began to walk towards him sultrily. His expression suddenly changed to a menacing one.

"You've always been so smart…"

Hawke continued walking backwards but the fake Anders followed him. But with each step, the image of Anders seemed to burn away, revealing the true form underneath.

"No…not you…"

As the last black feathers burnt away, Hawke was face to face with a male desire demon. But not just any desire demon. The one that had offered him his powers of blood magic. Dreamweaver. Suddenly, Hawke couldn't move as if he'd been frozen. The demon glided up to him, caressing his jawline with the back of its hand.

"Dear Hawke, you look so broken…" the demon said with fake sympathy. The demon took Hawke's arm and began to run a long clawed finger over the tattoos,

"Let's fix that…"

In a flash of purple light, the pain of the broken arm was gone. The demon stepped backwards, all the while looking into Hawke's eyes.

"You have a wish," Dreamweaver cooed, "If you would have your wish…then give me MINE!"

The demon lunged at Hawke, startling him awake with a shout.

"No!"

Fenris was awoken by a shout. He saw Hawke sit up abruptly in the bed. His good hand was shaking, and he was drenched in sweat. Fenris leapt up and grabbed his sword, thinking there was a danger. But when he saw Hawke shivering in the chair by the window, he knew it wasn't the case. The sling had come off Hawke's arm and Fenris hurried over to re-sling it. But Hawke suddenly lifted the arm and began inspecting it in front of him without any pain.

"He…he fixed it," Hakwe said in awe.

"What? Who fixed what?"

"The…demon…he, it, mended the broken bone."

Fenris didn't like the amazed look in Hawke's eyes. He was being reeled in again to the demon's power.

"Don't listen to it Hawke. It'll just destroy you."

Hawke looked away from the healed arm.

"You're right. It took me off guard."

Fenris hoped he was right. Hawke was known to be liable to conversing with demons. So far he'd been able to avoid true and irreversible possession, but he was playing with fire. Hawke ran his mended hand through his shoulder length black hair, removing the ribbon holding it back. The black hair fell about his handsome face in soft waves. Fenris had forgotten how attractive Hawke was. Hawke looked up, noticing Fenris admiring his face. Fenris coughed and quickly averted his gaze,

"I will take watch now if you want," he said, not making eye contact. He did glance back momentarily though, and saw that Hawke was smiling at him. Fenris didn't know why, but that made him glad.

Fenris had hoped that Hawke's demonic encounter would be a one off, but it was not. The smile he had given him seemed to be his last. As they travelled further south, each night Hawke was plagued by nightmares, each one seemingly worse than the last. The demon had healed him on the first night, but now it seemed like it was torturing him. Each night Hawke would toss and turn and cry out in the dark before waking in cold sweats. Fenris tried comforting Hawke when he awoke, but Hawke pushed him away. His eyes were wild and afraid each time he woke. Hawke's night terrors were starting to affect him during the day as well. Fenris had thought Hawke was well on his way to being back to his normal self, but now he'd been set back again. He was moody and mostly silent. Fenris was frustrated. After all the effort to save Hawke and nurse him back to health, a demon was going to ruin everything. It was then that it struck him. Fenris realised that these nightmares were Hawke slowly losing himself to Dreamweaver. His nightmares were more than that, they were battles in the Fade that he was losing. That was why each night it became harder to wake Hawke. Fenris would shake Hawke and shout at him but his eyes would never open. Fenris swallowed nervously. Any night now, Dreamweaver would take advantage of Hawke, turning him into an abomination. And Fenris had no idea how to stop it.

The pair stopped again for the night by the banks of an unnamed river. Hawke looked downright terrified.

"Hawke, are you okay?" Fenris asked tentatively as he made a fire. Hawke shook his head.

"I can't…I can't stop him Fenris. Each night, it feels as if I'm running but moving nowhere. And he's getting closer and closer before…Maker, Fenris, I'm going to become an abomination," he said, his face in his hands.

Fenris sat down next to Hawke and took his hand,

"Not if you fight back. You've dealt with this demon before. Hell, you defeated it and banished it back to the Fade! You severed ties you yourself had created! Why can't you do it again?"

"Because I…I had Anders then."

Fenris stood up angrily.

"Anders?! How did Anders make a difference! Anders was an abomination himself! He and his little demon friend probably wanted you to be possessed!"

"Anders was not an abomination, so stop calling him one!"

"Anders is gone, Hawke. Stop talking like he's still here. I'm here now. You don't need him anymore,"

Hawke stepped away from Fenris, a look of disgust in his eyes,

"You're here now? Is that what this is all about? Am I supposed to swoon and fall in love with you now!"

Fenris stood his ground. Hawke's anger may have been spurred on by Dreamweaver, but he wasn't an abomination yet.

"I care about you, Hawke," Fenris said a little softer, "I don't want to see you get hurt."

Hawke's expression softened a little as well,

"Fenris…" he said, reducing the distance between them, "If that's true, then will you help me?"

"Of course."

Hawke sighed, "At the moment, I am not powerful enough to take down Dreamweaver. But if we were to find another mage, then they could kill him."

Fenris didn't like that Hawke referred to Dreamweaver as a "him" rather than an "it" but prompted him to continue.

"But I would have to use blood magic to summon their presence into the Fade in the first place. And to perform such a ritual I would need all my old powers back. And that means…"

Fenris saw where Hawke was going.

"No, that's a terrible plan. Won't your current blood magic suffice?"

Hawke shook his head again, "I'd have to accept Dreamweaver's offer of power again, regain all my blood powers, perform a ritual to send someone dreaming into Fade and get them to kill Dreamweaver while he's attached to me. You know, no biggie or anything," he said, adding a chuckle on the end.

"Are you sure you want to do this? To join forces with that…thing, again?"

Hawke nodded,

"It's the only way. It's either this, or fall to Dreamwever completely."

Fenris sighed. He knew who they needed for this. As much as he hated him, there was only one mage Fenris trusted poking around Hawke's mind.

"Hawke…"

"What?"

"Anders is alive. And I know where to find him."


	10. Chapter 10: A Bargain with Desire

Hawke was furious with Fenris at first for not telling him, but his anger was quickly replaced by sheer joy that Anders was still alive. His whole demeanour changed, like a dying fire rekindled. Fenris, however, felt the opposite. His plans of romancing Hawke again were all but destroyed. Once they freed Anders from the fortress, Hawke would be free to pursue a life with the mage, and again Fenris would be left alone. And that made him gloomier than ever. He didn't like this, and he especially didn't like Hawke resorting back to blood magic. It was a dangerous and immoral path that reminded him too much of the magisters that made his life a living hell back in Tevinter. It actually made Fenris sick watching Hawke pace back and forward twirling the knife in his hands as he thought. Hawke was the image of a Tevinter magister. Strong, unyielding, willing to resort to blood magic and possessing a fiery, determined glow in their eyes. But Fenris knew Hawke was too kind and sympathetic to ever truly be a magister. Hawke turned to face him,

"You, uh, might not want to watch me summon the demon," he said.

"It's fine," Fenris said bitterly. Even though Fenris knew this was the only way to save Hawke from a grim fate, he didn't have to like it. He was hating every second of it. Hawke nodded and turned away from him and gripped the knife in his hand. He rolled up his sleeves and took a deep breath. Hawke quickly slashed the knife across his left arm, and then his right. Fenris flinched both times as Hawke's crimson blood splattered out onto the ground. But the blood became animated, swirling and twisting through the air like it was alive. The coils of red reminded Fenris of snakes, waiting to strike out at unsuspecting prey. With a smooth movement of his hands, Hawke began to move the tendrils of blood. They seemed to wrap together into the figure of a man. And as they came together, the figure solidified into Dreamweaver, the desire demon. The only other desire demon Fenris had ever seen was a female, but it was well known that desire demons take on the gender their prey preferred, and there was no mistaking which gender Hawke preferred. The scantily clad demon smiled slyly as it came into existence and took a few steps towards Hawke before running a hand across Hawke's face. Hawke flinched, but didn't move.

"I knew you would return to me, Hawke," the demon said to Hawke in a voice that was not quite natural, but still smooth, sultry and dripping with…desire. Fenris felt a wave of hatred swell up at the sight of the demon, but Hawke remained calm and collected.

"It's not like last time," Hawke said firmly, "I just need your help again, and only once."

The demon chuckled, "Hawke, you've needed my help since they day you banished me back to the Fade."

The demon folded its slender fingers over its heart,

"You broke my poor little heart Hawke…" the demon said mockingly, "you're good at doing that."

With that comment, the demon glanced over at Fenris as if the comment was meant for him. Fenris gripped his sword, waiting for an excuse to run it through the demon.

"So," the demon said, returning its gaze to Hawke, "You need your blood magic back?"

Hawke nodded stiffly.

"Oh but Hawke, it was never gone."

"But without you," Hawke said, choosing his words carefully, "it will never be as powerful as before."

Hawke glanced at Fenris, worried. All this talk of arcane power did not sit well with him.

"That is true. But I need something in return. I need to get inside of you," the demon chuckled.

"What, like Anders did with Justice?" Hawke asked, "Do you think I'm stupid enough to let a demon possess me?"

"Oh, I won't be as intrusive as Justice. In fact, it isn't true possession. I'll still be in the Fade…"

The demon sauntered around Hawke, "But I will see your every move, hear your every thought and…"

The demon ran a hand down Hawke's side. To Fenris' disapproval, Hawke almost seemed excited by it,

"…power every spell. You'll be the most powerful mage south of Tevinter."

Hawke seemed reluctant, but at the same time intrigued. He needed this power to save Anders, and Fenris knew they needed Anders to save Hawke. But Fenris was concerned that Hawke would ignore the plan. The plan was to free Anders and then get Anders to get Dreamweaver out of Hawke's head, using a method that Hawke hadn't even properly explained. He worried Hawke would want to keep Dreamweaver and the power he offered. Fenris felt like he should walk out while he still could, but his devotion to Hawke made him stay.

"Alright," Hawke said, "But no funny businesses. If I end up an abomination, I'm not going to be happy."

Dreamweaver laughed,

"Abominations rarely are."

With a wink, Dreamweaver suddenly disappeared in a flash of light. With a cry, Hawke doubled over as the demon made the connection to Hawke's mind. Fenris watched as the old markings on Hawke's non-tattooed arm suddenly flared back to life. Those markings were a sort of brand on Hawke that marked his connection to the demon. Fenris had only seen them flare once before during Hawke's battle with the Arishok. Slowly, the marks faded to a dark grey. Hawke stood back up again and rubbed his temple,

"Maker, I forgot how much that hurt. And I forgot how weird the connection feels. It's like having someone watching over your shoulder all the time."

Fenris nodded. He wanted to reassure Hawke that they would destroy Dreamweaver after they had Anders, but they couldn't speak of the plan. Not while Dreamweaver was listening.

"I'll show you back to the fort," Fenris said rigidly. Hawke noticed the distaste in Fenris' voice.

"You know, you can stick around once we save Anders," Hawke said, "I'm not sending you away."

Once Fenris may have been relieved to hear Hawke say the words, but he truly knew that there would be no place for him once Anders was back. He just nodded, not voicing his knowledge. Hawke jumped up onto his horse. Fenris followed suit and headed back towards the road. And as they rode, Fenris could sense that there were two sets of eyes watching him.


	11. Chapter 11: Abomination

Riding alongside a maleficar. That was something Fenris thought he'd never do. But here he was. And technically Hawke was now a maleficar- a blood mage. He had gotten new robes from a trader on the road and they seemed to complement his dark decision. They were rough and dark with billowing fabric that seemed to add to Hawke's grandeur. The grey feathered collar distastefully reminded Fenris of Anders. While a gnawing worry sat in Fenris' stomach, Hawke did not seem to be phased at all. His expression was content though Fenris noticed something in Hawke's eyes. They were hard and determined. He even thought he saw a wrinkle or two under Hawke's eyes, which wasn't surprising considering Hawke was entering his thirties and had been under a lot of stress in the last few years. He was eerily quiet during the ride, and Fenris was unsure whether he wanted to talk or not, especially with the demon listening in. Instead, they rode in silence.

It took a few days to get back the fortress. Hawke spoke little on the way, but his lack of conversation was for a different reason now. He was reluctant to say anything while under the possible sway of a demon. When they finally could see the fortress up ahead, the sun was setting, casting orange light over the grey stone. They made camp on an overlook that looked down onto the rugged land where the fort was situated. Fenris set up camp while Hawke sat near the edge of the precipice, gazing at the fort below. It wasn't like Hawke to contemplate, though it had been some months since Fenris had been around Hawke. A lot could have happened in that time, and Fenris knew that it likely had. He also knew that the events in Fort Dival probably had a painfully scarring effect on Hawke. Fenris looked down at his tattoos, and recalled the pain he had endured when he received them. Hawke had gone through that pain, though on a smaller scale. Not to mention the beatings and the whippings and the fact that Hawke had a demon floating around in his head. Fenris looked back up, and panicked when he realised that Hawke was nowhere to be seen. Only a second ago he had been sitting at the cliff. Now, he was nowhere in sight. Fenris ran over to the cliff and peered down. On closer inspection he saw that the cliff was in fact a slope, and Fenris could see the signs on this slope where Hawke had slid down. He looked down into the forest below and caught the last glimpse of Hawke's cloak as he darted into the trees.

"Hawke!" Fenris shouted down, though there was no reply. Fenris knew what Hawke was doing. He was going to Fort Dival, and he was going alone.

Hawke was struggling. He had thought he could keep the desire demon's will at bay, but it was proving to be difficult. The plan had seemed good at first. Dreamweaver's added power would ensure he saved Anders, and then it was as simple as getting Anders' presence into the Fade to kick Dreamweaver out. But things were never as simple as that. Even now, Dreamweaver's desires were forcing him towards to fortress, against his will. Hawke fell forward onto the ground, as he fought against the demon's control.

"I am in charge here!" he said aloud. Of course there was no reply, but a strengthened response from Dreamweaver proved that he had heard. Was this what Anders felt like when Justice was in control, Hawke thought? Did he feel this helpless? Hawke gritted his teeth as Dreamweaver vied for control of his body again. He was regretting ever getting mixed up with demons. Hawke rose to his feet, and felt a little strange. Dreamweaver had given control of himself back, but he still didn't feel quite altogether. He controlled what he did, but he was compelled to follow silent orders that he would rather not accept. And so he continued on to the fortress.

Hawke was crouching outside the entrance to the immense building. It brilliant orange sunset had been obscured with angry grey clouds that promised rain later on. The fortress was uninviting and depressing. Made of varying shades of grey stone, the builders obviously were not thinking of aesthetic appeal when they built it. It was tall and solid, and black birds circled round its highest points. Two Templars stood on guard at the gates. Hawke readied his staff, planning to take them out with a few quick bolts. But as he grabbed the staff on his back, he felt Dreamweaver fight for the reins again.

Use blood magic.

The whisper had sounded like it was right in his ear, but no one was anywhere near Hawke. He shook the whispers away. Blood magic had done enough damage as it was. While it had served its purpose back in Kirkwall, Hawke was reluctant to use it now. He knew one wrong step could lead to him becoming an abomination. He ignored Dreamweaver and continued to unsheathe his staff. Suddenly, the lyrium tattoos on his arm flared. Hawke held back a muffled cry of pain as the burning sensation returned. The lyrium in his arm was reacting to the desire demon's efforts. And to his dismay, he realised that the red lyrium was fuelling Dreamweaver's control. His hand reached down to the knife tucked into his belt. Hawke fought the motion, but the more he struggled, the brighter the lyrium glowed, and the stronger Dreamweaver's control became. He raised the knife up and brought it down across his wrist in one smooth motion, sending rivers of blood running down his arm. He felt the familiar surge of power as he tapped into his blood magic. Like how the scent of blood excites a pack of wolves, the rush of power from his blood seemed to send the demon into a frenzy. A frenzy that Hawke was powerless to control. But he would not stop fighting, not for a second. It was true he wanted these Templars dead, but he wanted them dead at his hand, not the demon's. But Dreamweaver was too empowered now to fight against. Hawke raised his hand, and using his blood powers took control of the Templar on the left. Hawke felt himself control the Templar, and ordered him to attack his comrade. The Templar drew his sword and swung at his companion. The other Templar was taken off guard, and his possessed friend quickly killed him before turning the sword on himself. Hawke watched in horror as the guard took his own life. He had used blood magic a lot in Kirkwall, but he never touched people's minds. That was something he vowed never to do. But now he was just a bystander in his own body as Dreamweaver had his fun. He screamed out in anguish as he tried to tear away from the demon.

Hawke, I want this to be fun for both of us.

The whisper was back, and it seemed to have more power. Hawke struggled as much as he could but the demon was stronger. But Hawke would not let it possess him, not while he drew breath. But the events of the past few days proved to be too much. He was weakened both physically and mentally. Hawke panicked as his felt himself loose control of his own body- as he slipped into Fade, and as Dreamweaker filled the body that was once his.


	12. Chapter 12: Fall of a Templar

Hawke entered the gates of the fortress, unfazed by the two dead Templars lying in front of the entrance. Though the man walking into Fort Dival was only half Hawke. The other half was Dreamweaver, a desire demon taking control of Hawke's vulnerable state. Inside the Fade, Hawke was fighting a battle of his own as he fought for the control of his body. But Dreamweaver was excited by the battle and Hawke's inner desire to save Anders. The excitement doubled the demon's power and made his grasp stronger. Hawke could do little but watch the demon move his own hands in front of him.

As Hawke continued through the grand entrance hall, a group of stationed Templars cried out in alarm at the sight of the trespassing mage. Dreamweaver grabbed the staff on Hawke's back and with unnatural speed sent a volley of magic, burning projectiles towards the group. Hawke was surprised at the sheer force they hit with- the Templars were sent flying backwards as the attacks hit. Hawke did recall that Dreamweaver had guaranteed that with his aide, his spells would easily double in power. Despite the situation, Hawke couldn't help savouring the power a little. He had always enjoyed feeling powerful, but only because it meant that he could protect those around him better. That was why he felt so ill at ease- this power was being used for the opposite of what he desired.

Dreamweaver pushed on with the attack, killing the Templars before the got close enough to do any real damage. Using the blood pooling around the Templars bodies, Dreamweaver summoned three shades from the Fade. The beast like demons slid forward through the halls in front of Hawke, like heralds making way for their king. Surprisingly, they encountered no more resistance. Hawke and Dreamweaver alike thought it strange that the fortress was so empty, though Dreamweaver seemed to know where to go as he led Hawke's body through the stone passages. It didn't take long for them to reach the door that entered out into the yard in the fortress, where the Templars trained. Hawke recalled that it was also the location of the fighting pit where they had staged Anders' death. Hawke kicked the door open, revealing the yard outside. It seemed that all of the missing Templars were present there. The sound of the door being forced open, they all swung around to see Hawke, eyes glowing, standing in the doorway with crimson blood flowing down his arms. Hawke looked up and felt his heart nearly stop, despite Dreamweaver's control. On the far side of the yard was a headsman's block and a Templar wielding a very large and formidable axe. Being forced down onto the headsman's block was Anders. He was bloody and bruised, but there was no mistaking him, not for Hawke. Hawke's sudden rush of longing and want for Anders flowed from him to Dreamweaver, empowering the demon even more. The Templars began to rush forward, brandishing their swords to kill this maleficar intruder. Dreamweaver wasted no time. As they approached, he raised the sword end of the staff and thrust it through Hawke's abdomen, sending a grasping wave of blood magic out from Hawke. The Templars stopped in their tracks as the blood magic crippled them with pain and killed the weaker ones outright. One of the stronger ones lunged for Hawke, but Dreamweaver spun the staff with its blade end fast around so that it took the Templar in the throat. Hawke dashed forward, gripping his staff with a bloodied hand. He spun and swung the staff around him, sending out bolts of magic into the enemies advancing toward him. Whenever one got too close, one wave of his hand and the blood magic it controlled was enough to kill them. Hawke dashed from Templar to Templar, executing each one in brutal displays of blood magic. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pair trying to flee. Dreamweaver quickly summoned a pair of shades that quickly pounced on the fleers. In a matter of minutes, the yard was soaked with blood and was scattered with the bodies of dead Templars. Hawke stood in the midst of it, breathing heavily. Hoping his work was done, Hawke tried to claw his way back into control of his body.

Enough, Dreamweaver. You have done what I needed you for.

But the demon would not relent its control. He was enjoying himself too much.

Suddenly, the Templar wielding the headsman's axe leapt forward, bringing the axe down in front of him. Hawke only just avoided the swing and jumped backward. The axe was heavily imbedded in the ground in front of him. Using the executioner's lost momentum, Hawke ran forward and thrust the blade end of his staff up through a gap in the Templar executioner's armour. The man grunted before collapsing on the ground in front of Hawke. Hawke looked up and saw Anders rising slowly and staring at him.

"Hawke…" he said with a shaky voice, "They told me you were dead."

Empowered by the sound of Anders' voice, Hawke pushed with all his might against Dreamweaver and succeeded, suddenly gaining control back of his body. The shock of having control back sent Hawke stumbling forward a few steps, but Anders quickly darted forward and caught Hawke before he fell. Hawke grabbed Anders and pulled him close in an embrace. Tears began to roll down Hawke's cheeks, but he made no move to wipe them away.

"Anders…we need to get out of here," he said. He moved Anders away slightly so he could look at his face, "There is a desire demon, Dreamweaver, trying to possess me right now as he was just before. Anders, you need to kill him!"

Hawke knew he wasn't supposed to mention the plan while Dreamweaver could listen, but he knew if he didn't tell Anders now he could fall to Dreamweaver completely. Anders looked at him, a little shocked but the emotion melted into an expression so determined and longing that it could only be described as love.

There were suddenly the clinking footsteps of steel boots behind them, "What a touching reunion," a voice said. Hawke turned around slowly, already knowing who it was, "The valiant Champion bargains with a demon just to save his one true love. The storytellers would go nuts for this."

"You're right," Hawke said, "I'll have to send a copy to Varric."

Taia unsheathed her sword. It was tinted red, though Hawke knew Taia was smart enough not to imbue her weapon with red lyrium, not after what it did to her mother.

"Do you want to know how the story ends? The brave Templar captain slays the two abominations and rids the world of another pair of mages."

"Hmm, I'm not sure if I like that ending," Hawke said with a shrug, "How about…"

Hawke was suddenly caught mid sentenced as Dreamweaver, angered by Hawke's defiance, lunged back into control. Anders sensed what was happened as Hawke doubled over,

"Hawke, I know you are strong. Fight it!"

Hawke tried his best but it was now use. He felt himself slip away from control as the desire demon slipped in.

"How about the powerful desire demon kills the filthy Templar and takes the valiant Champion for his own?" Hawke said, though the words were not his. Dreamweaver brought the knife down across Hawke's wrist again, ensuring he had plenty of fresh blood to tap into. Anders ran forward to grab the knife from Hawke's hand, but Dreamweaver knocked him away. Hawke moved forward towards Taia and sent a number of bolts of magic towards her. Taia was more nimble than the other Templars and quickly avoided the shots. She lurched forward and swung out with her sword, which Hawke caught in the middle of his staff. He swung the staff around so the blade whooshed upward in an uppercut. Taia moved slightly too slowly and a line of red appeared on her chin where the sword had nicked her. Almost as enraged by the sight of blood as Dreamweaver was, Taia vaulted forward in another advance. Her sword moved quickly and slashed Hawke on the arm. Hawke took a few steps backwards, but quickly regained himself. Suddenly, he raised his bloodied hand and tapped into the blood magic. But it was not his own blood he was tapping into. Suddenly, Anders cried out in pain as Dreamweaver used the nearby mage's own life force to heal Hawke. The gash in Hawke's arm quickly healed. Anders wanted to help Hawke fight Taia, but being used to heal Hawke weakened him to the point he could do nothing but watch. The pair were locked in a duel- sword against staff. Mages were best at fighting from a distance and it was obvious in the duel. Hawke was struggling against the sword blows. He was used to firing his staff from further away, and in a close up duel he had little room to swing or manoeuvre. Even with Dreamweaver's strength, Hawke didn't know if he, or even the demon, could win this battle. A thought flitted across his mind. Perhaps it was better to die than fall prey to the demon. He had always said he would sooner die than become an abomination. But as another pained cry from Anders indicated that Dreamweaver was sucking the life out of him, Hawke was imbued with new resolve. He couldn't die, he was the Champion of Kirkwall. He was infallible, undefeatable, and in some people's minds, immortal. All over Thedas, mages whispered his family name, the name of the man who had helped ignite the mages' fire in Kirkwall. It would seem petty that a man such as him would fall to a Templar like Taia. He could win this if only he could get in control. Suddenly Hawke was knocked backwards by the hilt of the Templar's sword. He staggered back and Taia used this disadvantage. She wielded the heavy sword with surprising ease and the attacks were relentless. Dreamweaver's perception was fast, but with Hawke fighting against him, his control was lessened. Like two people pulling at equal strengths on opposite ends of a rope, Hawke was not moving. At least, he wasn't moving fast enough. Taia's sword was finding its marks wherever it could. While his magic was strong, she was stronger. She kicked out with her armoured leg, sending Hawke flying to the ground. Hawke and Dreamweaver alike watched in horror as she began her swing that would be the final blow. But suddenly, something shot out across Hawke and caught the sword. Hawke realised it was his staff, but it was not in his hand. He looked across and saw Anders…no, Justice, wielding his staff.

"You and your kind will never take another mage!" Justice hissed.

"So, the second abomination comes out to play. Very well."

Justice went for an attack, but Taia used her Templar skills to dispel the magic. Hawke had been using blood magic, which Taia had not been able to block, but Justice had to rely on lyrium. Hawke scrambled up, both he and Dreamweaver knowing that Anders would be doomed due to his reliance on mana. Dreamweaver was not concerned, though. In reality, he cared nothing for Anders. He had Hawke, so what need did he have for Anders? But Hawke was concerned. He was terrified. He could not loose Anders again. Suddenly falling back into control, the red lyrium in Hawke's arm suddenly glowed, filling him with power. Hawke flung himself at Taia with a shout, and plunged the glowing arm through her back, as he had seen Fenris do so many times. Curling his fingers around what could only be her heart, he wrung it out of her chest. Taia immediately halted and collapsed, obviously dead, on the ground. Hawke took a few steps backwards shakily, shocked at what he had just done. He looked to her body and then to Anders, whose own markings were fading, indicating he was back in control. Lastly, Hawke looked down to his blood covered arm as the red lyrium slowly began to fade again. It was…over. Taia lay dead in front of him, killed in a brutal manner that shocked even him. Hawke sank to his knees, overcome with too many emotions to process. Though he realised that this blur of emotions was probably what was keeping Dreamweaver at bay. For now. Anders rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Hawke as he saw his lover sink to his knees under the weight of everything that had happened in the last few weeks. Everything had been accumulating, and Hawke had just taken it as it came and added to the pile of everything else. But Anders saw in that moment, that pile had just become too heavy for Hawke to handle anymore. He was strong, but no one was that strong. He buried his head in Anders' feathered pauldrons as he held him, entwining his fingers in Hawke's mattered black hair and softly reassuring the broken mage in a gentle voice. The roles were usually reversed- Hawke in all his strength would usually be the one to comfort Anders, yet he was the one who needed comforting now. The pair stayed there in the yard for a long time, not wanting to separate less they be forced apart again. But they were unaware of the pair of eyes watching them from a distance. Fenris watched on, at first feeling hated but then…unexpectedly- sympathy.


	13. Chapter 13: Sacrifice

Dreamweaver was strangely absent from Hawke's mind for the next few hours, which troubled Hawke. He and Anders had returned to the camp where Fenris was waiting, and as Hawke had expected, they had to go through an awkward reunion.

"Anders." Fenris acknowledged as the pair returned to camp.

"Fenris," Anders replied in the same, reserved tone.

"Oh come on you two," Hawke said, "Please don't be like that with each other."

Anders looked over to Fenris, "Well Fenris," he said stiffly, "I suppose I owe you thanks for freeing Hawke and looking after him."

"I didn't do it for you," Fenris replied.

"I know that but…thank you anyway."

"You're…welcome."

Hawke walked up between the pair, "Look at that! You two can be civil with each other, so…"

Hawke suddenly stopped mid-sentence and grew pale, causing both Fenris and Anders to look at him, concerned.

"Love, what's wrong," Anders asked worriedly as he jumped to Hawke's side.

"It's…nothing," Hawke said, but moments later the statement was proved false as the lyrium tattoos suddenly flared and Hawke doubled over in pain. Fenris drew his sword,

"It's the demon!"

Hawke suddenly lashed out at Anders and pushed him forcibly to the ground. The pair watched in horror as Hawke straightened again and they saw the clear signs of possession. Hawke's ice blue eyes were now a dark shade of purple, and glowing cracks appeared across his face, similar to Anders' when he was possessed, but in a deep purple.

"You're both fools if you thought a bit of hugging and crying was going to get rid of me," Dreamweaver laughed. It was Hawke's voice, but tinged with Dreamweaver's demonic tone, "Hawke is mine, and there is nothing either of you can do about it!"

Before Dreamweaver could grab Hawke's staff, Fenris tackled him to the ground and pinned the mage.

"Anders! Hawke said he taught you how to free someone of possession years ago! You need to do it now!"

Anders looked down in horror as Fenris struggled to keep Dreamweaver pinned.

"But…but that's blood magic!"

Dreamweaver snarled as he threw Fenris off him, but Fenris was quick to hold him down again,

"It's either that, or Hawke dies," he said, grabbing his sword and holding it to the possessed mage's throat.

"You don't understand, Fenris. That spell, it require a lot of blood. When I say that, I mean a full life's worth."

Fenris looked up at Anders, still keeping the blade pressed against the struggling mage's neck.

"Is it…is it the only way?"

Anders nodded. Fenris looked back down to the glowing, possessed eyes in front of him. Once those eyes had regarded him lovingly, but that had been so long ago. Fenris still loved Hawke, in his own way. But before, as he watched Hawke and Anders in the yard he realised that what the two mages had was much more than what he and Hawke had shared all those years ago. They had shared infatuation. What Hawke and Anders had was true love.

"Do it," Fenris said, "Use me."

Anders knelt down, "Fenris…are you sure?"

"Do it before I change my mind!" he shouted at the mage.

"I…" Anders stuttered, "Thank you."

Anders recalled the spell that Hawke had taught him years ago, in case he should become possessed. He also recalled that the same spell had been used by a blood mage to free Arl Eamon's son Connor from possession back during the Blight. At least it had worked once before. Anders tried not to listen as Fenris cried out in pain as the spell turned to his blood for power. He never liked Fenris, but he hadn't wished this upon him. Fenris had chosen this himself. Suddenly, with one last cry from the elf, Anders felt himself black out as his mind entered the Fade.

As had always happened in the Fade, Justice took control. Yet Anders knew that the spirit would share the goal of slaying the demon. Despite being aware that the spirit was in control, Anders was still aware of the Fade around him. It looked as desolate and foreboding as ever, but somehow different to what Anders had seen before. He was standing in what looked like an abandoned town, though the buildings appeared so bleak and lifeless that it was clear to see that they were just shadows of the real world. As he walked through the Fade village, he realised he recognised the place. It was Lothering- the town Hawke had grown up in. Anders had expected that the demon would manipulate the Fade to something Hawke would connect with, so to make possession of him easier. As Anders, no, Justice, walked through the Fade-Lothering, he was surrounded by the wisps and ghosts of people. Anders recognised some, but others he did not. This place was more or less a manifestation of Hawke's mind- the place in which Dreamweaver had taken control. Suddenly, Anders saw a figure that was not a ghost. In fact, at first he thought it was Hawke, but as he approached the figure he realised it wasn't. He was older, perhaps in his late forties, with a commanding posture and a strong aura about him. Anders realised he wasn't wrong- this was Hawke. It was Malcolm Hawke. Though Justice could sense when a demon was near, and grew on edge as he approached him.

"Who are you?" Malcolm asked sternly. Anders could not help but find the similarities in the older man's face and Hawke. Haemon Hawke, that was. The same eyes, the same jet black hair and stubbled jaw. But Justice would not let him admire the man. He knew better.

"You would do better than to lie to me, demon," Justice said. Malcom recoiled, as if Justice had just heinously insulted him.

"Demon? The only demon I see here is you. The demon who would harm my son."

"Enough!" Justice roared. Suddenly, the false façade of Malcom Hawke faded away to reveal Dreamweaver underneath. But before Justice could attack, the demon disappeared. But only seconds later, something brushed past them. It was a young black haired boy who was running off through the town. Justice pursued. They ran past ghosts of the people of Hawke's past and present, and maybe even future. Anders caught broken whispers of words spoken to Hawke over the years.

I'm proud of you, son…

Look after your mother and your siblings for me…

How do you do? Varric Tethras, at your service…

If I had known Anso would have found me a man so capable, I would have asked him sooner…

My little boy has become so strong…

Anders recognised some conversations, but not others. Justice paid no heed to them at all and pursued the young boy through the ghostly town. Eventually, the boy stopped in a grassy field. The grass around them was swaying, but there was no wind. The boy turned around to face them. Anders realised straight away that this boy, or at least the image of the boy that Dreaamwever was taking on, was a young Hawke. His bright blue eyes seemed even brighter on the young, carefree face and they looked at Justice inquiringly.

"Who are you?" the boy asked. Guessing by the sound of his voice, Anders guessed that this manifestation of Hawke was no older than ten. But Justice was more perceptive than Anders regarding demons and the image of a child did not faze him as he drew Anders' staff.

"Your games end now, demon. You have tormented this mage long enough."

The demon did not relent as quickly this time. Instead, young Hawke's faced grew afraid.

"What demon? Where's pa?" his eyes widened, "You're not a Templar, are you?"

Even though Anders knew better, he could not help feeling sorry for the boy. He looked so afraid. He wondered if it was an actual reflection of something that had happened in Hawke's childhood. But suddenly, Anders' train of thought was broken when he thought he heard someone call his name.

"Anders, don't listen to it!"

He was right. He did hear his name but he could not see where it was coming from. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and both Anders and Justice were momentarily blinded. When they regained their vision, both saw that the field they had been standing in was gone. Instead, they were standing in the Fade in its true form- rocky and desolate and surrounded by a sky of black clouds. They could now see where the voice was coming from. Hawke, the real one that is, seemed to be chained to a large rock by a glowing green magical chain. He was tugging on it with all his might, but it would not budge.

"Dreamweaver has trapped me here," he said, "Kill him now, or we'll all be stuck here forever and I for one would rather not be here forever."

The child in front of them grew angry and stomped his foot on the ground,

"You never let me have any fun," he complained. The image of the young Hawke then disappeared to be replaced with Dreamweaver in his true, demonic form. But gone was his sultry, sly expression that he so often wore. Now he was genuinely angry.

"Look at you," he spat, "Coming here and fixing a mistake that Hawke himself made. Hawke summoned me, so he should face the repercussions of doing so. The problem with mortals is that you never are willing to own up to what you do. Hawke contacted a demon with full awareness of what might happen. And it happened."

"That matters not," Justice replied, "Mistake or not, I will kill you."

"So be it."

Justice grabbed the staff from his back and threw a bolt of magic at the demon. But Dreamweaver suddenly dissipated and reformed behind him, with magic spilling from his own hands. Dreamweaver hurled his own attack at Justice, but he managed to dart out of the way. It was spirit verses demon as Anders had no control at all over Justice in the Fade. Anders could sense that Justice was not fighting Dreamweaver for Hawke's sake, but simply because it was a demon, and to him, all demons were evil. But it didn't matter to Anders why Justice fought Dreamweaver, it only mattered that he won. But at the moment, the battle seemed evenly locked. Dreamweaver had summoned a number of lesser Shades that were now overwhelming Justice. His staff whirled in a flurry of bolts and spells while Dreamweaver flipped and darted about dodging them while slashing out his own attacks. Anders had to admit, the desire demon was impressive to watch, and the way it moved was mesmerising. But Anders knew he could not chance falling for the demon as Hawke had done. Hawke had done so much for him, now it was his turn to do something for Hawke. Anders sudden surge of determination seemed to spur Justice on, and he attacked with renewed strength. Dreamweaver was not ready for the sudden outburst of resolve, and faltered slightly. That falter was all Justice needed to finish off the demon. In one final burst of magic, powered by Justice's righteousness and Anders' will, Dreamweaver was defeated. The demon screamed as he fell. He no longer darted around them gracefully, but clawed desperately on the ground. Anders watched in relief as the demon's body began to burn away as his essence returned to the Fade. Dreamweaver's cold, violet eyes bored into him, unblinking until they too burnt away. As the demon became no more, Hawke's chains disappeared. Finally free from his prison, Hawke bolted up and ran over to Anders, lifting him in an embrace,

"You did it Anders! I knew you could!"

"Hawke," Justice replied, reminding him that Anders had little control in the Fade.

"Oh, sorry Justice. But congratulations to you too," Hawke replied, putting Anders down and looking a little sheepish.

"I vote we get out of here," Hawke said, "I've spent enough time in the Fade for a lifetime."

Justice nodded.

"We are indeed due back."


	14. Chapter 14: Mended

Hawke woke sluggishly as his mind returned to his body. He felt himself lying on grass, and through his half closed eyes he could see a bright blue sky above. He tried to lift himself up, but the simple action seemed difficult.

"Steady there, love," he heard Anders say nearby, "You've just overcome demonic possession. I don't think you're just going to bolt up and be alright."

Hawke chuckled, "Of course I am. Nothing keeps me down for long. Well, except for you maybe."

Hawke slowly rose to a sitting position. His head swam a little as he got used to being in control of his own body again,

"Anders, remind me to never do that again," he said as he stretched his stiff muscles. It was then Hawke noticed another figure lying nearby.

"Fenris?"

Anders moved in front of Hawke before he could investigate.

"Hawke, I have to tell you something. In order for me to get into the Fade, I…I had to use blood magic myself. Of course I hated it, and I hate blood magic more than anyone but…it was my only choice."

Realisation dawned on Hawke's face. He knew the spell Anders used. And he knew the price it demanded. His realisation turned to anger,

"You killed him! By the Maker Anders I know you didn't like him but this is too far…"

"No, Hawke. He offered his blood for the spell. He…chose to die for you."

Hawke stared at Anders as he tried to process what he just heard. He was overcome with a multitude of emotions. Fenris had always been special to him, but it had become apparent that they were too different to ever be compatible. Hawke knew he had broken Fenris' heart when he chose Anders, but he never stopped loving the broody elf, even if it was now a different sort of love. But Hawke had always thought that Fenris resented him. Especially after he had turned on him during the Battle of Kirkwall. But now he was alive thanks to Fenris. Hawke blinked back tears, before moving towards Fenris' still figure.

"I…Fenris…"

He was lost for words. What could he possibly say in a situation such as this,

"Thank you," Hawke choked, "Just know…you never left my heart, Fenris."

Hawke felt Anders hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and the older mage gave him a weak smile. He knew the pair had never gotten on, but Hawke could see in Anders eyes that he had a new respect for the elf.

"Don't get too emotional just yet," another voice said. Hawke quickly looked back to Fenris, and realised with a start that the words had come from him. Astounded, Hawke watched as Fenris began to stir and slowly opened his eyes.

"Fenris, you're alive! How?!" Hawke exclaimed. Anders noticed that Fenris tattoos slowly fading from a glow,

"Of course!" Anders said aloud, "Lyrium and blood can be used interchangeably for spells. Because Fenris has extra lyrium in his skin, the ritual must've taken power from the lyrium before taking power from Fenris' blood, meaning that he had life left over to survive."

Hawke made a sound between a laugh and a sob,

"I told you those tattoos would come in handy one day!"

Fenris grunted as he lifted himself to a sitting position. He was weakened, but alive.

"Indeed."

For the first time in a long while, Hawke thought he saw the shadow of a smile on Fenris' face.

Hawke, Anders and Fenris laid low for the next week or so as they recovered from their ordeals, and as they waited for the Templars to stop scouring the countryside. While it was obvious that the elf and the mage still weren't on great terms, it warmed Hawke's heart to see that they weren't trying to rip each other apart. Anders even used his healing magic to help Fenris recover, though that was more for Hawke than for any friendship between him and Fenris. It didn't take long for the Templars to disappear from the area. After all, Taia had been a Red Templar and they were separate from the true order. The real Templars weren't going to spend time or resources trying to hunt down those who had actually removed a thorn from their side. The mismatched group managed to get into town to buy horses and supplies, for Hawke and Anders knew that they still could not remain in one place too long. They were still apostates, and that would not change for a long time. Fenris bought a horse too, though he revealed to Hawke that he was to follow a different path.

"Are you sure?" Hawke asked after Fenris revealed that he was heading his own way. It was a crisp autumn morning, and the sky was a clear, crystal blue, "You know you could come with us."

"Thank you for the offer, Hawke, but my future lies down a different path. There has been news that slavers are starting to grow bold and are venturing out into the rest of Thedas. I can't let that happen."

Even though he was disappointed, Hawke understood what Fenris had to do.

"Well I'm sure you will give them what they deserve," Hawke chuckled. He moved closer to the elf, "But listen, if you ever get tired of brooding by yourself, you know you are always welcome where ever Anders and I might be," Hawke said softly, "And if you ever need any help whatsoever, I will do whatever I can. Just find Varric and get him to direct you towards me. He always seems to know where I am no matter what. Kind of weird actually."

Fenris glanced over at Anders and back to Hawke, "You would do that for me?"

"Of course! That's what friends are for, right?"

This time it was not the shadow of a smile on Fenris' face, it was a real one. It was a smile Hawke had not seen in years. Not able to help himself, Hawke grabbed Fenris and lifted him up in a bear hug. Fenris had a noise somewhere between a choke and a laugh,

"Thanks Hawke, but could you put me down?"

Hawke obliged and let the slender elf go, but not before giving him a gentler hug.

"You look after yourself now," Hawke said, "Cause if I found out you haven't…"

"I will. Don't worry."

"Fenris…" Anders had appeared next to Hawke, "I…well…take care," he said, though it was obvious that he struggled to do so. But the fact that he had was all that mattered to Hawke. Fenris and Anders shook hands awkwardly.

"Er…you too Anders. You'll…you'll look after Hawke, right?"

Anders nodded, determination in his eyes, "Till my dying breath."

Hawke jumped forward and put his arms around the two other men,

"Oh don't be such downers! Everything is going to be great. After all that, what could possibly go wrong?"

Suddenly, along a few moments after Hawke said his words, there was a thunderous boom in the sky, and a roar like stone cracking. The ground shook slightly as if an explosion had set off miles away. The trio quickly turned around, shielding their eyes from a sudden green glare in the sky. When the glare faded, they found themselves staring at a glowing green tear that ran across the sky, surrounded by quickly developing grey clouds.

"You just had to say something, didn't you Hawke," Fenris said.

"By the Maker," Anders sighed, "Just when one adventure stops…"

Hawke finished his sentence, "Another begins."

The End


End file.
